Chris Swanepoel

This year I and my fellow descendants of the French Huguenots celebrate the 330th anniversary of our forefathers’ landing at the Cape of Good Hope. Francophiles and proudly so, we have of late been swirling glasses of Burgundy Chardonnay, downing huge glugs of Armagnac and jetting-in mounds of Roquefort and Comte while attempting to hum Le Marsellaise without stumbling over that tricky seventh beat-change.